


And They Were Roommates (Oh My God They Were Roommates)

by pretzelstoday



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Bending (Avatar TV), Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Gay Zuko (Avatar), I have no idea how to tag stuff, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Ozai is a terrible parent, Recovery, Zuko is autistic, and they were ROOMMATES, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-07-29 00:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretzelstoday/pseuds/pretzelstoday
Summary: Zuko Liu finally starts studying Biology at Ba Sing Se University. He's determined to have a quiet semester, get his degree, and become a veterinarian. However, his roommate Sokka Kahale, seems to have other plans. Outgoing, loud, and charismatic, and a little annoying, Sokka seems intent on "helping" Zuko make friends....not that Zuko wants any.And it doesn't help that Sokka's awfully cute.....DOING A RE-WRITE,realized while this fic is, frankly, crap, there are some redemable elements to it!! will delete this version once the re-write is complete and/or I give up on both entirely :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys!  
> I'm currently rewatching atla, so please, have a ship that would never happen in canon (and yet I love it)  
> it's in the tags, but Zuko is autistic in this fic, as it is a headcanon of mine, in case y'all are wondering why he's behaving the way he is. get ready for some gay!  
> comments/kudos/bookmarks are greatly appreciated, any potentially disturbing content will have a warning in the notes at the beginning of the chapter :)

_Zuko is sitting in his booster seat, hand running over his stuffed turtle-duck in a repetitive, soothing motion._

_“Mom,” Azula whines from the seat next to him. “Why doesn’t Zuko have to go to school?”_

_“I already told you, my love.” Ursa says, unbuckling Azula’s seatbelt. “Zuko is going to the pediatrician today.”_

_“_ I _want to go to the pediatrician!” Azula kicks her six year old legs, and Ursa lifts her out of the car._

_“You’re going to school today.” Ursa says firmly, and Zuko watches them disappear into the school together. He rubs the soft synthetic fabric of turtle-duck on his cheek. That’s his favourite, but he’s not allowed to do it when dad is watching. Dad doesn’t like turtle-duck._

_They arrive at the pediatrician. Zuko’s legs dangle from the chair, and he holds turtle-duck tighter, just in case. It smells like pine air-freshener and old rugs, Zuko thinks. His mother goes and checks in at the reception desk. Zuko is a patient eight-year-old, but after a few minutes in the chair he’s playing with the water cooler, listening to the air bubbles gurgle up with relish._

_“Zuko,” Ursa says patiently. “Why don’t you look at the toys instead?” She looks pointedly at the pile of children’s toys heaped neatly in the corner. It is, after all, a pediatrician’s office._

_Zuko sits on the rug and pulls turtle-duck slowly over it, pretending the rug is a lake._

_Finally, Dr. Pathik emerges from his last appointment. He’s a tall, thin man with ochre skin and a white beard. He’s wearing a yellow linen shirt under his doctor’s coat._

_They follow him into the office_

_“That’s a nice turtle-duck you’ve got there,” Dr. Pathik says, looking down at Zuko and grinning “What’s his name?”._

_Zuko grins too, but averts his gaze to the floor._

_“Turtle-duck.” He says, and Dr. Pathik laughs even though he wasn’t telling a joke._

_It’s not like other checkups Zuko has had before. He’s usually wary of strangers, but Dr. Pathik is really nice! He measures Zuko and tells him he’s getting tall for his age and looks in his ears and hits his knees with little hammers to test his reflexes, but he also asks Zuko a lot of questions._

_Some of them he looks to Ursa before answering, just to make sure it’s okay._

_Then they play games and do puzzles, and Zuko likes that a lot. Then it’s time for the grown-ups to talk, and Zuko gets shooed back to the waiting room. He plays with the water dispenser some more, and then he gets to have a sucker. He picks red._

\---------

Zuko gets to Ba Sing Se University for registration early.

The idea was to beat the crowd.

 _No such luck,_ Iroh thinks as he stands in line with Zuko. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see his nephew fidgeting. Not that that’s anything new, but Iroh is pretty sure it’s more nerves than anything.

Finally, they reach the registration desk, and Iroh puts his hand lightly on Zuko’s back as he goes through the registration information.

“Your room number is 602; here’s the key.” The receptionist smiles as she hands it to him. “Your roommate’s name is Sokka Kahale. Have a nice day!”

Keeping his eyes fixed on the counter, Zuko takes the key and walks away without another word.

“Thank you. We hope you have a nice day, as well.” Iroh says, before trailing after his nephew.

“Zuko!” he says as he catches up. “Remember what we talked about.”

“We talk about a lot of things, Uncle.” Zuko says, walking briskly, carrying his backpack and dragging his suitcase behind him.

“When someone tells us to have a nice day, we….”

“Tell them to have a nice day too.” Zuko finishes flatly. “Sorry, uncle.”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to,” Iroh says. “I know you didn’t mean to be rude, Zuko. But she doesn’t know that.”

 

“Do you need help unpacking?” Iroh asks.

“No.”

“Well, if you need anything, I’m just a phone call away.” Iroh says, and embraces Zuko tightly.

“Bye.” Zuko says.

“I love you,” says Iroh.

“I love you too, uncle. Have a nice day.”

\--------

 

By the time Sokka gets to the University, registration is almost over. He kills the engine, hating to interrupt the crappy (but excellent) eighties music playing a little louder than it should be. Making sure the car is parked outside of campus to avoid parking fees, he walks quickly, trying to find the reception area.

It doesn’t take long to find, since there are signs posted all over campus with arrows reading REGISTRATION THIS WAY. The harried receptionist speeds through his papers and hands him his room key.

“Your room number is 602. Your roommate’s name is Zuko Liu- he should be here already. Have a nice day!” she smiles, glad to be almost finished her shift and the hell that is that first day.

“Yeah! You too!” Sokka finger guns as we walks away from registration.

He finds 602 with a little more trouble than he should (the rooms are numbered! And yet….), and unlocks the door. At first, he thinks there’s no one in there. The light is off, the September sun shines lazily through the window. Zuko is already unpacked, and is sitting in a compact ball on his bed. He’s wearing headphones, his fingers nimbly flicking at an elastic band stretched between his forefinger and thumb.

A large scar covers the left side of his face; the side that’s facing Sokka at the present.

“Hi! I’m Sokka, I’m your-”

Zuko jumps and turns his head with a start. He removes his headphones.

“Don’t do that!”

Sokka is surprised. It’s been maybe thirty seconds and his roommate is practically yelling at him.

So much for good first impressions.

“I…uh, I’m sorry. I’m Sokka, by the way. Your roommate.”

“Oh.” Says Zuko. “I’m sorry. I can’t see very well out of my left eye, so my peripheral vision and depth perception aren’t very good.” He gestures vaguely at the scar covering almost half of his face. “I also have partial hearing loss in my left ear. Please avoid approaching me from my left, or I might hit you. Anyway. I’m Zuko. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ah,” says Sokka. He’s a little weirded out, but also intrigued. And he’s itching to ask how Zuko got that gnarly scar, but he knows better than to ask something that personal on the first day of their acquaintancehood. “It’s nice to meet you too.” He sticks out his hand, and Zuko ignores it.

Sokka lets it drop, and turns to his side of the room, taking it in. It’s identical to Zuko’s side: twin size bed, dresser, desk, chair, lamp. The walls are off-white, and the linoleum underfoot is green and white checks.

Sokka makes the bed, unpacks (throws everything on the floor) and then lays down, feet on the wall. He throws a glance over at Zuko, who has his headphones back on and is apparently enthralled in flicking and elastic band.

“So, uh, what are you majoring in?” He asks.

Zuko removes his headphones again.

“What?”  
“What’s your major?” Sokka repeats.

“Biology.” Zuko says.

“Cool.” Sokka replies. “I’m majoring in history.”

“What are you going to use that for?” Zuko asks bluntly.

“Nothing, really. I like war history a lot, and I need a bachelor’s degree before I can study law.” Sokka shrugs. “And then I can make that sweet dollar-dollar bill.”

“Oh. My dad is a lawyer.” Zuko says, and there’s something about his tone that tells Sokka not to press it.

“Why are you studying biology?” he asks instead.

“I want to be a vet.” Zuko says.

“Wow, that’s so cool!” Sokka says. “What’s your favourite animal?”

“Turtle-ducks-” And then Zuko is off, sounding like he’s swallowed a Wikipedia page. Sokka learns everything he never bothered to wonder about turtle-ducks. Their habitat, diet, mating habits, calls, nesting patterns, the way they raise their young, different variations of turtle-duck and where they’re found, et cetera, et cetera, _et fucking cetera._

He’s not going to lie; it’s pretty interesting. And he guesses he found out how to make his roommate talk to him. The key to Zuko is turtle-ducks.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! thank you so much for all your sweet comments!! they made me so happy :)  
> CONTENT WARNING FOR CHILD ABUSE AND USE OF THE R WORD AT THE BEGINNING OF THE CHAPTER- it's not plot relevant, and all of it is in italics, so feel free to skip if that upsets you. Ozai is a terrible father, enough said.  
> again, all comments/kudos/bookmarks are highly appreciated!! happy reading :D

_“You stop that right now!” Ozai says, and there’s a hard edge to his voice, much harsher than most parents would see fit to use when scolding their child._

_Azula was watching something loud, a documentary about war, Zuko thinks, or space travel; something with lots of explosions. Zuko had washed dishes, and he could still feel the damp clamminess of his hands. Washing dishes was his least favourite chore. Ozai had been in the kitchen, putting away said dishes, and the clinking of glassware combined with the volume of the TV is just a little too loud._

_He wants to retreat to his room._

_The sound of dishes slamming down in the sink, just a little too loudly._

_Zuko freezes._

_He knows what this means. No running now._

_“Don’t make me come over there, Zuko.”_

_He’s barely fourteen, and he’s standing in the centre of the living room rug, holding his hands over his ears and rocking gently back and forth. The words make him tense up, but it’s too late. The height difference isn’t significant, but to Zuko, Ozai is towering over him._

_His father grabs his wrist, tightly enough to make him cry out softly._

_But never hard enough to bruise. Not where people might see._

_Ozai forces Zuko’s hand down, and the noise makes him cringe just a little. But that doesn’t matter anymore; he’s faraway, detached._

_“I told you to stop.” Ozai says, voice soft and composed. His eyes are like cold steel. Zuko forces his remaining hand down._

_“But Azula-” he begins, thinking maybe he can explain about how his hands are wet and the rug is scratchy against his bare feet and how every time dishes clink together he can feel it and he just wishes everything would stop, just for a few minutes._

_From his faraway spot, Zuko marvels at the loud_ smack _ing sound his face makes when Ozai slaps it with his open palm. Hard._

_But never hard enough to bruise. Not where people might see._

_“Don’t talk back to me.” Ozai says._

_“Yes, sir.” Zuko says, walking calmly out of the living room._

_“Fucking retard.” He hears Ozai say, and he bolts up to his room and screams into a pillow._

\-----

 

Starting university is overwhelming for everyone.

It’s especially overwhelming when you’re autistic, and the routine you’ve established for yourself over the past two years has been almost completely destroyed.

So far he likes his classes, but he leaves organic chemistry feeling upset. The elastic band is flicking faster than usual as he walks. There’s something about Professor Zhao that reminds Zuko of his father.

Zuko prefers not to think of his father; it makes him feel what he’s learned is called hopelessness, and sadness, and most of all, _anger._

Someone’s bag brushes against him as he leaves the lecture hall, and he catches himself before he starts screaming and pulling his own hair.

 _Breathe, Zuko._ Uncle Iroh’s voice floats through his head. _Control your anger. Channel it._

So he goes to the campus gym; putting on his headphones not for music but for the noise cancellation feature.

He walks straight for the punching bag and goes through kickboxing drills.

Circle to the left.

Left jab.

Right front kick.

Left hook.

Left jab

Right roundhouse kick, straight cross.

Left roundhouse kick, right uppercut, left crescent kick.

Repeat for three minutes.

One minute break.

By the time he finishes, his breathing is ragged, and he’s not angry anymore. His shirt is soaked in sweat.

He drinks some water and splashes cold water on his face. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Good.

He goes back to the dorm.

 

\------

Classes are finished for the day.

The first day.

Sokka already feels like he’s drowning in reading and assignments. His workload is manageable, but it’s the imagining all the work that’s to come that really kills him.

 _Well,_ he thinks _I guess it’s this, or washing dishes for the rest of my life._

At least washing dishes pays the bills.

Except….not really. Especially not all the bills he’s accumulating by coming here in the first place.

 So he studies.

He’s laying on his bed, drawing a smiley face with highlighter in the margins of   _An Introduction to Anthropology_ when Zuko comes in. He’s wearing athletic clothing (not that it’s much different from his normal attire, so far Sokka hasn’t seen him wear jeans) and soaked in sweat. His grey t-shirt clings to his lightly toned body, and Sokka can’t help but ogle.

He pushes his soft black hair out of his eyes, and Sokka gets a glimpse of his eyes. Amber brown- almost golden, really, and absolutely breathtaking.

 Zuko meets his gaze and immediately redirects his eyes to the floor.

“Hello, Sokka.” Zuko says.

“Hey, man.” Sokka says, fighting to keep his voice casual and grateful (not for the first time) that the melanin content in his skin more or less hides his blush. _Come on, Sokka._ He thinks. _Heterosexual thoughts. Channel your inner straight._

“What’s crack-a-lacking?”  He asks.

“Uh…what?” Zuko asks.

“What’s up?”

“Oh. Not very much. I just finished class. Bio looks like it’s going to be really good- the professor is starting off with molecular and cellular biology. And I’m also taking organic chemistry, so that should tie in really interestingly! Zhao teaches that though, and I don’t think I like him.” Zuko takes a breath, ever-present elastic band between his thumb and forefinger being flicked away at.

“What about you?” he asks.

“My classes seem pretty cool, although it’s going to be hard to keep up with the coursework on top of my job and my…extremely busy social life.” Sokka says with a laugh. “Can I uh, ask you something? I know we just met, and I don’t want to be rude-”

“Hm. Being polite takes too long. Just ask it the rude way, please.” Zuko drops his bag and sits cross-legged on his bed, facing Sokka. His eyes dance away anytime Sokka looks in his direction.

“Oh, jeez. Are you like, on the autism…spectrum? Or something?” Sokka winces at how he sounds, but that’s sort of something he should probably know about someone he shares a room with. That way he can avoid being _too_ inconsiderate.

“Are you asking that to hurt my feelings?” Zuko asks him. Like, really asks him, and Sokka knows that he is most probably on to something.

“No.” he says.

“Well, in that case, yes actually.” Zuko says. Flick flick flick goes the elastic band. “ I would have told you, but it seems to put people off.”

“Is there anything you’d like me to do? To like, not bother the shit out of you?” Sokka asks.

“Don’t make loud noises or shine bright lights at me, and we shouldn’t have any problems.” Zuko says.

“Deal.” Says Sokka with a laugh.

There’s quiet, and Sokka starts reading over _An Introduction to Anthropology_ again.

“Sokka?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” Zuko says, and the sincerity in his voice makes Sokka melt just a little.

And then Zuko goes and takes a shower.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey lads :)  
> again, thanks all the nice comments! sokka's segment in this chapter is really long (and in the next chapter as well) aang and toph are finally coming into the story :D

_Azula is three years old._

_Zuko is five._

_They’re playing dress-up in the living room. Their mother is seated on the couch, working on her thesis and watching them._

_Zuko is fighting Azula over a tulle skirt._

_“Not fair! It’s_ mine _!” she shrieks. She hits his arm as hard as she can with her little fist. Zuko rubs at his arm absentmindedly and takes the skirt._

_Ursa looks up from her computer._

_“Zuko,” she says. “You have to share with your sister, sweetie.”_

_“But I don’t get to have any pretty clothes,” Zuko says, upset. “It’s not fair! Azula gets to have dress-up clothes,_ and _pretty regular clothes.”_

_“Do you want to come to the kitchen and help me make you and Azula a snack?”_

_Zuko follows her to the kitchen. She kneels down, so she’s on his level, and says._

_“Zuko, my love, Azula is a girl. You’re a little boy, and you have to dress like one.”_

_“Why?” Zuko stamps his foot. “I don’t_ like _boy clothes! Especially not boy pants…they feel stiff, mom.” He doesn’t like the rigidity of jeans, or the rough texture. However, as a five year old, Zuko doesn’t have the vocabulary to explain his sensory issues, and he trails off. His hand drifts up to his head, and he yanks his hair absentmindedly.  Ursa gently guides his hand back down._

_“Don’t pull your hair, love. Do you want turtle-duck?”_

_Zuko runs to get turtle-duck, patting the soft, synthetic fibers. He feels a bit better._

_“Good,” Ursa smiles. “Do you want apple, or pear?”_

_“Pear!”_

_“Sounds good.” She begins slicing the pair, and, not taking her eyes off the knife, says “Zuko, you have to promise me you’ll wear boys clothes in front of dad.”_

_Zuko is only five, but he already understands very clearly why he shouldn’t do certain things when dad is there. Otherwise, dad will have to punish him. It’s his job to make sure Zuko doesn’t do anything bad._

_No matter how hard he tries, it seems like he’s bad a lot._

\---

 

Zuko is laying on his bed, pretending to read his organic chemistry textbook and watching Sokka in a state of half-undress. Sokka is walking around the dorm room in his boxers, trying to find his work pants. Sokka is a little shorter than Zuko; his build is softer, but he’s also more muscular. His skin is a rich, warm beige, and he has a tattoo of an iceberg on his right shoulder blade. Zuko wonders what it would be like to trail kisses up from that tattoo, to Sokka’s neck.

There’s a warm, tingly feeling floating inside him, the epicentre of which seems to be his penis, and he closes his eyes for a moment.

 _Chemistry,_ he thinks _chemistry is decidedly not sexy. Read your textbook._

When he looks up again, Sokka is wearing his baggy black chef pants, and is pulling a blue t-shirt over his head.

“Hey, Zuko?” Sokka says.

“Yeah?”

“I’m probably going to be drunk when I get home, so if you could do me a solid and leave the door unlocked, that would be sweet. I’ll be quiet.”

“Okay. But don’t you usually drive to work?”

“I’ll leave my car there. It’s a piece of crap, if someone wants to steal it, I’m going to fucking let them.”

Zuko nods.

“Catch ya on the flip side,” Sokka says, and leaves, and Zuko wonders what that could possibly mean, and whether Sokka is straight or not.

He flips his notebook open to a fresh page, and writes _how to seduce Sokka_ as the header.

\-----

 

It’s the end of the first week of Anthropology, which Sokka thinks he’s going to like if he can ever get over the fact that he’s paying to be given homework, when someone plunks down in the usually vacant seat next to his.

“Hey,” she hisses. Sokka looks.

She’s short, with jet black hair that’s been buzzed into a mohawk. It’s not up right now, but it has some pretty serious potential. It would be even cooler if she dyed it funky colours. Metal glints in her ears, nose, and eyebrow. “This is Anthropology with Piandao, right?”

“Um, yes?” Sokka replies. “What are you, blind?”

“Yes, you fucking idiot!” She replies, quietly, but _very_ angrily. “And only half of the lecture halls in this shitty school have braille, cut me a break.”

True to her word, her eyes are a misty grey colour, and completely blank. She even has one of those canes blind people use to not walk into stuff.

“Shit. Sorry.” Sokka whispers.

The girl turns her attention to the front with a huff (she can’t see, so Sokka figures it must be for dramatic effect- props to her for that). Sokka sighs quietly.

 

Zuko thinks it’s hilarious when Sokka tells him about it.

 

It’s been three days, and dwelling on the past is for suckers, and so the incident slips from Sokka’s mind.

Sokka is thinking about Katara. They texted a few days ago and toyed with plans to go for coffee, but Sokka had to work last minute and they let it drop. He’s standing in the middle of the lawn, trying to figure out when his next day off is, because it really has been over a week, and his concept of time is quite flawed, when he sees her walking across campus.

Holding some guy’s hand.

Sokka’s heart pretty well stops.

 _She’s eighteen,_ his rationale says, _she can make her own decisions. She was probably going to tell me pretty soon anyway. We tell each other everything. Right?_

Sokka listens to his rationale as he strides across the lawn toward Katara and her boyfriend.

“Katara! Heeeeeey- long time, no see.” He says, feigning surprise.

Katara jumps, surprised, and then says,

“Hey, Sokka.” In an icy tone. Sokka’s always been a terrible liar, and he knows that she knows that he most certainly already spotted her and decided to come over and make things awkward.

Well. Good.

“Ah, I guess you’re Sokka. I’m Aang.” Aang says cheerfully, sticking his hand out to shake Sokka’s. Sokka does so reluctantly, taking this guy in. He’s a few inches shorter than Sokka, and his hair is cropped very short, revealing a blue arrow tattoo running from the back of his neck to his forehead. His hands bare similar arrows. Any other potential tattoos are obscured by Aang’s clothing. He has large brown eyes and a friendly smile. Sokka can’t help but like him a little bit already, but he steels himself and vows to hate Aang from now to eternity.

 

“Katara!” Sokka squawks. “When in the sweet fuck did _this_ happen?! How long exactly have you been going behind my back for?”

“Not very long,” Katara says, keeping her voice even. “Maybe a few weeks. No offense, Aang, but I wanted to make sure things were going to last before I decided to tell you.”

“None taken.” Aang holds his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

“Why are you corrupting my sister?” Sokka asks Aang. “What are your motives?”

Aang shrugs and makes a noncommittal sound in his throat.

“That’s the best you can come up with?!”

“Oh, please, Sokka, he’s hardly _corrupting_ me.” Katara replies, arms folded.

“How old is he?” Sokka demands.

“He’s nineteen. You know I go for older men, Sokka, I just really get off on Aang being eight whole months older than me.” Katara replies coolly.

“ _Well_ , I thought he looked older, since he doesn’t have any fuckin hair.”

“Sokka!” Katara exclaims. “He’s right there!”

“Actually, I get that a lot.” Aang says. “No hard feelings.”

“The point was to hurt your feelings!” Sokka shouts, and as the words leave his mouth he already feels pretty immature and stupid. Admitting your mistakes never gets you anywhere in life though, so he presses on.

“I think I should probably give you guys some space.” Aang says. “See you later, Katara.” He kisses her cheek and walks off whistling, leaving Sokka dumbfounded.

Katara punches him in the arm. Hard.

“You’re such a jerk!” She says. “It hasn’t been very long, but I think I really like him. Come on, Sokka, don’t be a dick.”

“Fine.” Sokka sighs. “Mostly I was just pissed you didn’t tell me. He seems…freakishly nice.”

So much for hating Aang until eternity.

“He’s very nice, thank you.” Katara says primly.

“I should uh, go to work.” Sokka says. “See you later, Katara.”

 

 

\---


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is crap but quick update I guess??  
> CONTENT WARNING FOR ALCOHOL ABUSE   
> enjoy :)  
> also get ready for Zuko being really petty next chapter

_Zuko is seven years old, and sitting in the office, across from the principal._

_“Zuko, hitting other students isn’t acceptable.” He says with a sigh. This is not the first time they’ve had this conversation._

_“They hitted me first,” Zuko says matter-of-factly._

_It’s true, Zuko doesn’t lie, but Mr. Kim doesn’t believe that. He never does._

_“Zuko, Ty was crying when he told your teacher about this. You aren’t crying.”_

_Now it’s Zuko’s turn to sigh. He wish he could explain to Mr. Kim about how Ty is crying because he’s probably never had someone hit him with the intention of hurting him before. Zuko knows where to aim, and hard, and fast. His fingers drift to the bruise on his hip bone that hasn’t healed yet._

_“Why did you do this, exactly?” Mr. Kim asks._

_“He wasn’t being nice. He made me angry.” Zuko is now discovering that if you loosely clamp your hair in a fist and then tense and un-tense it, it has a very desirable effect. “He wanted turtle-duck. I don’t like sharing turtle-duck. He’s special.”_

_“Do you have difficulty managing your anger?” Mr. Kim asks him._

_Zuko shrugs. He has a hard time figuring out how he’s supposed to act at any given point. He watches people, and tries to practice copying in the mirror, but it never comes out quite right._

_“I guess so,” he says. Mr. Kim scribbles something down._

_“Zuko, I’ll be giving your parents a call to let them know what happened today. You can go now.”_

_Zuko nods and walks quietly out. There’s a deep dread sinking in his stomach._

_His dad is going to find out about this, and he’s not going to be happy when he does._

_Zuko walks into the bathroom and hides under the sink. It’s quiet there, and he pulls his hair and softly rocks for about ten minutes before going back to his classroom._

\---

 

Sokka’s shift passes without incident, and eventually, ten thirty rolls around. It’s after work on a Friday evening, and that means The Green Lotus. Time to get hammered.

Lee pours him his gin and tonic and goes to serve another customer. Sokka crushes lime into his drink and takes a slow sip, appreciating the taste. He’s going to get so _fucking_ drunk.

“Sokka! Hey!”

 _For the love of fuck,_ Sokka thinks. It’s Aang.

“Aang….hi.” he says, a little apprehensively.

Aang sakes a seat to Sokka’s left.

“Katara told me you wanted to meet here because you were sorry about earlier, and I just wanted to say, no hard feelings. I probably wouldn’t be too happy if I was in your situation.”

Katara told him _what,_ now?

Murdering Katara moves to the top of Sokka’s to-do list.

“I guess I was just surprised. You seem like a good guy and all, but I was pretty upset that Katara didn’t tell me. We’re uh, pretty close.” Sokka says awkwardly. “Do you want a drink?”

“Nah, I don’t…really drink.” Aang says.

Sokka nods awkwardly. Cool. _Why in the fuck did he agree to meet me at a bar?_

“Okay. Um, sorry we’re, you know, in a bar and whatnot.” He says. “We could, uh, leave?”

“It’s okay,” Aang shrugs.

“Sweet. What…what’s your major?”

“Psychology,” Aang says brightly. “I want to be a psychiatrist. You?”

“History, right now. I want to study law.” Sokka finishes his drink. He’s drinking embarrassingly fast, he’s aware of that, but he orders another one anyway. Aang doesn’t seem to mind. “What do you do?”

“I’m teaching yoga right now, actually.” Aang says. “You wash dishes, right?”

“Yeah, it’s uh, kind of shit. I do some prep every now and then, but foodservice is just….awful.” Sokka says, wincing.

“Do you live at the university? I’ve never seen you around before.” Aang asks.

“Yeah. I share a dorm with Zuko Liu.” Sokka says.

“Never met him.” Aang says.

“Yeah, that’s not very surprising.” Sokka says. “He doesn’t really like, um, other people very much. Myself included. Nice guy, though.”

Aang laughs.

“Nice. My roommate is pretty cool, but she gets kind of mad when I let my birds out.”  He says. “Appa and Momo need time outside their cage! It’s pretty big, but still.”

“Oh, you have birds?” Sokka replies pleasantly.

 

He’s been drinking pretty hard, and when he gets up to go to the bathroom, he realizes his vision is gently swimming.

“Hey, would you mind coming outside with me so I can have a smoke?” Sokka asks.

“Sure,” says Aang, so they go outside.

Sokka leans against the wall and lights up.

“I’m very drunk.” He says to Aang.

“I was wondering when that would happen,” Aang replies.

Sokka slides down to sit on the cool, forgiving sidewalk. Aang crouches beside him.

“You’re okay?” He asks, concerned.

“Yeah,” Sokka says. “Don’t worry about it, man.”

He smokes and Aang watches in silence.

“Sorry you basically had to watch me get shitfaced,” Sokka says. His words are slurring slightly, but his head is surprisingly clear. “You can fuckin leave, if you want.”

“Katara told me you’re an alcoholic,” Aang says gently.

“Fuck,” Sokka says. “Too drunk to deny it. I’m going to be mad about that. Tomorrow.”

“If you remember it,” Aang teases.

“I may not. You’ve pushed me over the edge.” Sokka says sarcastically. “Perhaps I’ll binge drink for a week.”

\---

 

Zuko is compiling a list of his observations of Sokka’s like and dislikes (Sokka is very vocal about things he likes, and more so about things he doesn’t) when his phone buzzes.

His eyes jump to the clock. It’s almost one in the morning. He wonders where Sokka is.

“Hello?” he says, picking up the phone.

“Hi, it’s um, Aang Gyatso.” Says the voice that is Aang Gyatso.

“That means nothing to me.” Zuko replies.

“I’m with your roommate. Can you drive?” Aang Gyatso asks.

“Yes. I don’t have a car, though.” Zuko replies.

“Would you be able to come to The Green Lotus and pick him up? His car is here, but I don’t think he can really walk,” Aang’s voice moves farther from the phone, and Zuko presses the phone to his good ear and hears Aang’s voice faintly say “Fine, you _can_ walk, Sokka. Whatever. You shouldn’t.”

“Where is that?” Zuko asks, exasperated.

“It’s in the market district, a few blocks up from where he works. I’m sorry, I can’t drive, or I wouldn’t be putting you through this.”

“That’s okay.” Zuko says. “He’s going to be sorry tomorrow morning.”

Aang laughs.

“…Yeah. He’s going to be really hungover.”

“I’m going to make him sorry,” Zuko says. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ajkdhfalkdjhlkasdfh y'all I'm sorry this chapter took so long it took me forever to write :///  
> get ready for some Angst tho! (hopefully, I'm not sure how good I actually am at writing angst lol) not to mention the actual "plot" is kind of going to start gearing up soon :)   
> CONTENT WARNING FOR CHILD ABUSE/ALCOHOLISM MENTIONS AND USE OF THE R WORD

 

“Zuko,” Sokka slurs, head tilted back in the passenger seat of his car. “Can I drive?”

“No.” Zuko says for the umpteenth time.

Sokka makes a faint whining noise in his throat to communicate the injustice of not letting them both die in a car accident.

Zuko rolls his eyes.

Zuko pulls into the university parking lot, hitting the brakes abruptly when Sokka exclaims

“Stop!”.

Why he’s listening to Sokka, he’s not sure.

“Park. Outside.” Sokka says. His head is leaning against the dashboard now. Each word seems to be taking an enormous effort. “So I don’t have to pay. For parking.”

When they get out of the car, Sokka pukes unceremoniously into the gutter.

Zuko half-drags, half-carries Sokka to their dorm and tucks him into bed.

Well, “tuck” probably isn’t the right word. Zuko basically just pushes Sokka over and then pulls the covers over him. Sokka rolls so that he’s on his back,  so that he’s facing Zuko. His hand drifts up so that it’s touching Zuko’s face, drifting over his sharp jawline.

Zuko flinches at the touch, but doesn’t pull back. Sokka’s hands are warm and lightly calloused.

“You’re beautiful,” Sokka says earnestly. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

Zuko can feel his heart swell, and sharply, he reminds himself _Sokka is drunk. He doesn’t mean that. He couldn’t feel that way about_ you.

“Drink some water.” Zuko says flatly, handing him the glass. Sokka hugs him tightly around the middle.

“Dumbass,” Zuko says fondly, and ruffles Sokka’s hair.

 

\----

 

Zuko has never been much of a morning person, especially on weekends, but vengeance gets him up good and early. He makes coffee and drinks it, glancing periodically at the clock. Seven thirty. Perfect.

He opens the blinds as roughly as possible, making maximum noise. Sunlight streams though the window. There’s a soft groan from the lump in Sokka’s bed.

“Oh. Sokka. Are you awake?” Zuko asks louder than necessary. “Sorry.”

He sits down in his chair, idly tapping his spoon against his coffee cup. _Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink._

Zuko is knocking a pile of textbooks off of Sokka’s desk for the sake of The Cause when Sokka finally sits up in bed.

“Please. Stop.” He mumbles, groping the side table beside his bed for something.

“Stop what?” Zuko asks innocently.

“Fuck, you’re just as bad as Katara.” Finding what he’s looking for, he takes two painkillers, the kind Zuko takes for colds. Zuko watches in horror as he chews them before washing the bitter powder down with water.

“Why would you do that?” Zuko asks.

“Works faster that way.” Sokka mumbles. “I’m going to…get more water.”  He leaves the dorm and wanders down the hallway in his boxers. When he returns, Zuko gets a good look at his face.

“You look like shit.” Zuko says.

“I feel like shit,” Sokka replies with a groan. He pours himself coffee, and Zuko watches in fascination and horror as he pours an ungodly amount of sugar into it.

“Can you fill me in on last night?”

“I wasn’t there.” Zuko says.

“You came and got me. Which I know, because Aang sent me a really long-winded text that included that information. I’m not sure when I gave him my number.”

“You didn’t do much,” Zuko replies. “You were… _really_ drunk. Um. You threw up, in the gutter, thank Agni. And uh, you were very complimentary.” Zuko says, cheeks colouring.

Sokka takes a sip of his coffee and wonders what the fuck that could possibly mean. He decides he doesn’t want to know.

Not that he doesn’t find Zuko _very_ attractive (and who wouldn’t? Those lean, catlike muscles under his pale skin, his dark, silky hair, those amber eyes… _focus_ , Sokka chides himself).

But it’s not like he usually finds out good things about whatever blackout-drunk Sokka decided to do.

 

“So,” Zuko says, clearing his throat. “Tell me about your relationship with alcohol.”

“Fuck.” Sokka says. “That’s therapist-speak for ‘you’re an alcoholic’.”

“Are you?” Zuko asks.

“That’s personal,” Sokka sniffs.

“Not really.” Zuko replies.

“I don’t like that label, but only because it’s accurate.” Sokka says. “Anyway, I’d prefer not to go into it. If you get to be all dark and brooding and mysterious, then so do I.”

“Sokka,” Zuko says, looking dead serious. “My special interest is turtle-ducks.”  

“Yeah, but you have like, emo hair and a cool scar and do martial arts and shit.” Sokka replies. “No one knows how obsessed you are with turtle-ducks until they talk to you for…I’d say, more than five minutes?”

Zuko shrugs.

Sokka seems set on not talking.

“I want to help you,” Zuko tries.

“I would vastly prefer to struggle by myself.” Sokka replies.

“What if I tell you how I got my scar?” Zuko offers.

“Deal.” Sokka says. “How did you know I wanted to-”

“Everyone does. Especially when I tell them I can’t really see or hear out of that side. I’m surprised you didn’t ask.”

“It took a lot of restraint.” Sokka says frankly. He stands. “Deep emotional talks mean I need to smoke. Let’s go outside.”

 

Sokka is lighting a smoke when Zuko follows, holding a lump of modelling clay he’s contorting in his hands.

They sit on the curb.

“When did you start drinking?” Zuko asks.

“I was probably around fifteen,” Sokka replies.

Zuko tries and fails at hiding the surprise on his face. Sokka’s face colours slightly and he says defensively

“Zuko, have you ever actually _needed_ to have a job?”

“No.” Zuko says truthfully. He’s wanted for many things over the years, but money has never been one of them.

“I started working when I was fourteen. My mom had just died, and we needed money, you know? I’m not saying that’s exactly a _good_ excuse. The same shit happened to Katara and _she_ turned out fine. It’s just…it’s pretty hard to work like thirty hours a week and go to school. And no one ever really got that.”

Zuko nods.

“ _And_ I had to keep my grades okay so I could come to this stupid place. Because, you know, scholarships. It’s not like school is that hard, but I was just. So tired. It’s like maybe if I just have this one fucking thing that makes me happy, it’ll be worth it.” Sokka laughs humourlessly.

“Where did you get alcohol from?” Zuko asks.

“My dad.” Sokka shrugs. “You think _I_ drink a lot? You should see him. Well, actually he’s a lot better now, but a few years ago it was pretty bad. He took mom dying pretty hard. And the fact that he couldn’t really support us kind of fucked him up.”

“Oh,” Zuko says. “My father is an alcoholic too,”

“I kind of get the vibe you don’t get along well with your dad.” Sokka says.

“You could say that.” Zuko says. “He could have been a violent drunk, but he was violent all the time. I was never good enough for him.”

Sokka takes a drag and exhales smoke.

“That’s fucked up.” He says. “You’re great! I mean, your social skills are kind of meh, but you’re really smart! And you’re nice, and you’re fucking good at kickboxing.”

“I have a fucked-up face. And a fucked-up brain.” Zuko says matter-of-factly, staring down at the pavement and crushing the modeling clay between his fingers.

“Your brain’s not fucked up. It’s just different.” Sokka says softly.

The corner of Zuko’s mouth jerks upward into the closest version of a smile Sokka’s ever seen him do.

“Thank you,” Zuko says quietly. “You know what he said, when I told him I’m gay?”

“What?”

“At least I don’t have to worry about your kids being retarded.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Sokka is dumbfounded. Even if Zuko doesn’t exactly behave in a way that’s, exactly, well, normal, there’s something about him that Sokka can’t help but love. “Also, you’re gay?”

“Yeah.” Zuko says. “Is that…okay?”

“O-of course!” Sokka replies, perhaps a little to exuberantly. “I’m bisexual. I just…sometimes you can tell, you know? And with you, I really can’t.”

“Of course not.” Zuko replies, almost sounding affronted. “I was punished from an early age for showing any outward sign of it.”  

“Yeah,” Sokka nods awkwardly. “I guess that would do it.”

“I would prefer to go back to making you uncomfortable.” Zuko says.

“Very smooth,” Sokka says. “That’s exactly how I would have put it.”

“Thank you.”  Zuko says, unfazed. “Have you considered going to AA?”

“I mean, I’ve ‘considered’ eating corn on the cob with a fork.” Sokka replies.

“Will you?” Zuko asks. “Go to AA, I mean.”

“I would really rather not.” Sokka says.

“Will you do it for me?” Zuko tries.

“No.” Sokka says, deadpan. Suddenly, his eyes light up. “Ooh! I know! I’ll go on one condition: I get to help you make friends.”

Zuko groans.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up y'all I'm back on my bullshit  
> the gaang all finally hang out! more on that next chapter! :)  
> not to be a thirsty hoe but please comment if you liked it or if you want me to do anything differently!! your guy's comments literally give me life lmao.  
> anyway, without further adieu-

_Zuko is thirteen years old, and he comes to in a hospital bed. Everything is awfully foggy and far away, and all he’s really aware of is the rasping pain in his lungs and the distant beep of machines._

_“You’re awake,” A nurse says to him. “I’m going to give you some morphine, for the pain, okay?”_

_Zuko tries to reply, but his voice comes out in a meaningless rasp and then the nurse gives him the morphine and he falls back into a deep sleep._

_When he wakes up again, he’s alone, and he counts the ceiling tiles until a nurse enters the room._

_There’s a thick layer of bandages and gauze covering his left eye. He tries not to think about it._

_“Hey!” He says, as politely as he can, trying to quash the panic rising in his chest. “Where am I?”_

_“You’re at Ba Sing Se General Hospital,” the nurse says, smiling kindly._

_Zuko tries to smile back, just like the rules say, but his face hurts too much when he moves it._

_“I want my mom,” he says, trying not to feel childish, a thirteen year old asking for his mother._

_“O-oh,” the nurse says, “Your mother didn’t make it, Zuko.”_

_He doesn’t cry. Not at first. All he feels right now is deep disbelief. Surely there must be some mistake. Surely Ursa Liu can’t be dead._

_Zuko doesn’t believe it, can’t believe it, until the funeral. Azula’s screaming cries echo through the church, and he looks at the little urn that holds all that remains of his mother, and he cries._

_The salt of his tears stings his burn, still inflamed and raw and utterly hideous to look at. He cries for his mother, who he loved more than anyone else in the world; and he cries because he knows what happens next._

\---

 

“Aang told me about the other night,” Katara says in that motherly tone of hers, and Sokka knows that he’s in for it.

“Yeah, um, I’m sorry about that.” Sokka says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck even though she can’t see it over the phone.

 “He could have just left me there. I would have been fine.”

“You couldn’t walk, Sokka.” Katara says flatly.

“So? I could have just, y’know, chilled there and waited for my legs to kick back in. I don’t need a babysitter.”  Sokka replies defensively. He knows she’s in the right here, but he’s not going to admit it.

“Apparently you do.” Katara says scathingly, and Sokka knows that she’s won.

“That actually, um, brings me to some exciting news.” Sokka says.

“Oh! Speaking of- wait, no. You go first.” Katara says.

“Nah, it’s not that important. What’s up?” Sokka replies.

He wants to tell Katara about his newfound sobriety, but 48 hours in is a little early to be bragging about it. It’s not like he’s never spent 48 hours sober before, but there’s something about doing it on purpose; knowing that if things go as planned he’ll _never_ have a drink again, that just….sucks.

“Dad and Bato are getting married!” Katara exclaims.

“Spirits! Tell them….tell them congratulations for me, okay? Jeez, I should try to call dad this week. When’s the wedding?” Sokka rambles. Dad? And Bato? Sokka knew that they were together, that was hardly a new development, but getting _married?_

“It seems so early…” he says.

“I mean, they’ve only been together a few months, but they’ve known each other for like, forever.” Katara says. “I know Bato only lived with us for a few weeks before you moved out, but they’re _happy,_ Sokka. I think dad is finally moving on.”

“Fuck,” Sokka murmurs. “Getting married! When?”

“In May,” Katara replies. “Just a little after your exams, I think,”

“Wow,” Sokka says. This’ll take some getting used to.

“So what about your news?” Katara asks.

“Well, I’m stopping- I stopped drinking.” Sokka says, and there’s an awkward pause and he examines his filthy nailbeds and wonders whether Katara believes him and maybe he should have waited to-

“Really? That’s- that’s wonderful, Sokka.” She replies finally.

“Yeah, I’m going to AA and everything. Fuckin hate it.” He says.

“What….what made you decide to do that?” She asks.

“My roommate. He picked me up after that whole debacle with Aang.” Sokka says.

“Your…roommate?” Katara asks, her tone hurt. Sokka ~~couldn’t~~ wouldn’t stop for her, his sister, one of the people he’s closest to, but he would do it for some guy he met three weeks ago?  
“Yeah,” Sokka replies. “I just….I don’t know. We had this whole conversation about it, and he never tried to like, high road me. I mean, he’s pretty fucked up too, I guess. I get to publicly embarrass him and he gets to….make me bitchier than usual? I’m not really sure what’s in it for him here.”

“He probably just doesn’t want to deal with your drunk ass,” Katara laughs, and Sokka can’t help but join in

“Probably. But uh, just between you and me, he’s _really_ cute. And I just found out he’s gay, so….”

“Ohhh,” Katara replies, like it all makes sense now, and Sokka feels his face heat up.

\----f

 

It’s almost noon, and Zuko comes back to the dorm from kickboxing drills to find Sokka sprawled on the bed staring at the ceiling.

“Don’t you work today?” He asks.

“Obviously not, if I’m still here.” Sokka replies. “How was kickboxing?”

“Fine.” Zuko replies. “How’s day 3 of sobriety going?”

“Great.” Sokka says shortly.

“I call bullshit. You went out to smoke like, five times last night.” Zuko replies. “You smoke a lot more now.”

“Gotta compensate somehow, buddy.” Sokka replies. “Being sober on purpose is crap. Again, this is not the longest I have ever gone without a drink, but knowing that I can’t makes me want to more.”

“Hm,” Zuko nods.

“Also, AA sucks balls. Everyone there sucks.” Sokka whines.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Zuko says.

“You asked.” Sokka says. “Anyway! Clear your schedule for today, because we’re going to go do some fun, friend-making activities.”

“Okay.” Zuko says. “What? And with who?”

“We’re going to go play laser tag with Aang and his roommate. He needed another two people to make a team, and I need to force _you_ to socialize. It’s perfect.”

“When?” Zuko asks.

“Soon.” Says Sokka. “Basically whenever they get here, which should be within the next hour or so.”

“I’m going to go shower,” Zuko leaves.

 

Sokka is contemplating going out for a smoke in Zuko’s absence, so that he can avoid that judgemental glance, when there’s a knock at the door. Actually, it’s more of an aggressive thud.

He opens it, and hitting the door with her stick, is the blind girl from Sokka’s anthropology class. The one he said “What are you, blind?” to. Standing behind her is Aang.

Fuck. Hopefully she won’t recognize his voice.

“Um, hi you guys.” He says. “You’re early.”

“It’s you!” she exclaims, face lighting up in recognition. “You’re that guy from anthropology!” she laughs.

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that…” Sokka says awkwardly.

“What happened?” Aang asks as Sokka ushers them inside.

“I went into the lecture hall, and that one didn’t have braille but I was pretty sure it was anthropology, because I had already checked most of the lecture halls on that floor. So I tap the guy next to me on the shoulder and I ask ‘is this anthropology with Piandao?’, and he goes ‘What are you, blind?’” She laughs uproariously and slaps her leg for effect. “Classic.”

“…You’re not mad?” Sokka asks.

“I was. But then I calmed down, and now it’s hilarious.” She says sagely. “I’m going to kick your ass at laser tag.”

“Ah….okay.” Sokka says. “What’s your name?”

“Toph Beifong.” She sticks her hand in his general direction.

He shakes it.

“Sokka Kahale. Nice to meet you.” He says.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Toph says in a weird voice. “What do you look like?”

Sokka is trying to describe himself to Toph when Zuko enters the room, wet from the shower and wearing fresh clothes.

“Oh.” He says. “You’re in my room.”

“Who’s this guy?” Toph asks.

“This is Zuko, my roommate. Be nice, Zuko.” Sokka replies.

“Well I just wasn’t _expecting_ them to be in here when I got here.” Zuko says. “Next time you could make them wait outside?”

“That’s rude.” Sokka replies.

“Okay.” Says Zuko with a shrug, throwing the bundle of clothes he was previously wearing in the laundry basket. “You’re Aang,” he says, pointing at Aang. “I remember you from before. And you are..?”

He glances at Toph.

“Toph Beifong. Nice to meet you.” She waves.

“You’re blind,” Zuko says.

“Really?” Toph asks sarcastically.

“I was just making an observation.” Zuko says. “I’m partially blind in my left eye.”

“Cool,” Toph replies.

“ _Guys,”_ Aang says urgently, practically vibrating where he sits on Sokka’s bed. “Let’s go play some laser tag.”

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the wait on the update, guys! school and work have been challenging, and I've been dealing with some mental health stuff.....writing this was a lot of fun, and I intend to see this fic to its completion.   
> this was originally supposed to just be one chapter but now I'm only halfway through what I want to do, but I'm already at average length, so ;)  
> stay tuned, I've actually already started the next chapter, a rarity.  
> some ableism and use of the r word in the flashback, which is hardly a surprise at this point. azula makes more of an appearance in the flashback, I promise she's actually coming into the fic eventually (their relationship is less fucked up in this than it is in canon).
> 
> WANT FASTER UPDATES? IN JUST ONE EASY COMMENT, THIS FIC AUTHOR WILL BE MOTIVATED.

_Zuko is nine years old, and the suspicion that there is something wrong with him has just been proven correct._

_Autism spectrum disorder, mom says. His brain is different from most other people’s; nothing wrong with that. And there are medications and tools and behavioral therapy that he can use to help him find out what other people are thinking and feeling and expecting._

_“You’re going to go to behavioral therapy on Wednesdays after school now, my love.”_

_“Do I have to?” Zuko whines._

_“It’s very expensive,” Ursa says patiently. “So we must make sure that we never miss it, or dad won’t be happy.”_

_“Never ever? What if I’m so sick I can hardly get out of bed and I have to go and I die and my face gets all white and my tongue hangs out?” Zuko asks her earnestly._

_Ursa laughs._

_“You can stay home if you’re sick, love.”_

 

_Zuko is on his bed. He’s reading a book about turtle-ducks that Mr. Zhong, his science teacher has lent him. It has lots of pictures of them in it, and Zuko is examining what a proper nest should look like when Azula enters his room and flops down on the bed beside him._

_“Dad says that you’re retarded.” She says matter-of-factly._

_“I am not!” Zuko replies angrily, hands curling into fists._

_“I’m just telling you what he said,” she replies. “And you’d better lower your voice or he’ll hear you yelling and get mad.”_

_“It’s Autism spectrum disorder,” Zuko tells her. “It means my brain works different than yours does and I know more about turtle-ducks than you do.”_

_“Who cares about turtle-ducks?” Azula replies, tickling him._

_“Stuh-stop tickling me!” Zuko manages through his laugher, but Azula doesn’t stop, and Zuko has no choice but to use his age to gain the upper hand. He pins her down on the bed and tickles her ribs, right were she’s the most ticklish. She’s biting him now through her laughter, trying to squirm away. They both collapse on the bed, exhausted, and Azula lets out a contented sigh._

_She’s a lot nicer when dad isn’t around, Zuko thinks._

_“Azula,” Zuko says. “Do you usually know what people want you to do?”_

_“What kind of dumb question is that?” Azula asks._

_“Well?”_

_“Obviously. Dumb-dumb.” She replies._

_“I don’t,” Zuko says. “Everyone has to tell me or I don’t know.”_

_“That’s why dad doesn’t like you.” Azula says._

_Zuko is in his senior year of high school._

_He doesn’t usually see Azula there; she’s a sophomore, and usually too busy with her friends to bother with her weird older brother._

_Zuko is talking to Chang. Chang doesn’t like him, and Zuko has no problem figuring out why: he wears weird clothes, he gets sensory overload, he stims to help himself pay attention in class, he’s gay and doesn’t hide it well, he’s not very athletic, the list goes on. What Zuko can’t figure out is what exactly is so funny about what Chang just said and why everyone is laughing at him._

_Well._

_Not everyone._

_Just Chang and his friends, but the hallway feels so narrow and they’re standing in a semi-circle around where he usually eats lunch and he just wants to understand so that he can make them leave but he can’t and-_

_“Hello, Chang,” Azula says coolly. Zuko didn’t see her walking down the hallway. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”_

_“Hey, I was just having some fun,” Chang replies. “Zuko makes it pretty easy.”_

_“Ohh,” Azula says, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Is Chang not capable of getting attention unless he’s picking on someone who can’t even defend himself?”_

_“Calm down bitch, it was just a joke.” Chang says, but he’s obviously stung by the remark._

_“You fuck with him, you fuck with me.” Azula says, maintaining eye contact with Chang and stepping forward. Zuko marvels at how she does it. Eyes are like weird little grapes in your head, and he’s never sure which one he should look at. “And you don’t want to fuck with me.” She says._

_“Whatever,” Chang says, and leaves, his friends trailing behind him._

_Azula sits beside Zuko._

_“Well,” she says breezily. “That was fun.”_

_“Thanks,” Zuko says. “And I can so take care of myself.”_

_“Whatever, Zuzu,” she ruffles his hair and is gone._

\----

Toph walks very aggressively for someone who can’t see anything.

Her short legs move at a brisk pace, stick tapping meticulously back and forth to avoid collision. Zuko walks beside her, flicking an elastic band between his fingers.

“-there’s light and dark, and I can kind of almost see silhouettes. Really, I shouldn’t be allowed to drive, because my depth perception and peripheral vision are destroyed, but I get by okay.” Zuko says.

“Oh, shit, really?” Toph replies.

“Yes.” Zuko says.

“That was rhetorical.” Says Toph. “But anyway, I’m stone cold blind. Absolutely nothing.” She waves her free hand in front of her eyes for effect.

“How’s that?” Zuko asks.

Toph shrugs and very nearly misses someone’s shins with her blind stick.

“Not bad. It’s not like I miss being able to see, because you know, I never could.” She says.

“Don’t you need to be able to see to play laser tag?” Zuko asks.

A wicked grin breaks over Toph’s face.

“Maybe you need to, but I don’t.” she says.

 

“Toph!” The man behind the counter exclaims when they enter the laser tag establishment.

“Long time, no see. What’s up?”

“Hey Teo. I could say the same, but I’ve never seen you. I guess you _walked_ right into that one!” Toph replies, and as Teo laughs Zuko registers that he’s in a wheelchair.

Walked right into that one. He can’t walk. It’s a joke.

Oh.

“So what can I help you fine people with today?” Teo asks, once he gets over his laugher.

“Could you hook us up to some laser tag?” Toph asks.

“Certainly,” Teo taps on the computer in front of him. “All nine of you?”

“There’s only four of us, asshole.”

“Fine. Laser tag for four. Will you be paying separately, or together?” Teo asks.

“Together,” Toph says, and Sokka protests half-heartedly and a brief argument ensues and Toph eventually ends up paying $28.98 and Teo wheels out from behind the desk to show them how to use the guns.

 Toph knows the maze impressively well, and Zuko thinks that she must have spent hours there, memorizing every nook and cranny. He has a lot of time to reflect on this, because she keeps shooting him, and there’s no point in even trying for each thirty-eight seconds of death.

Sokka is in his element, sprinting around despite the prominent NO RUNNING signs with a wicked grin on his face.

Things are going fine, until they’re not.

Zuko isn’t sure when the music crossed the line of ‘tolerable background noise’ into ‘the worst thing that has ever happened’, or when the abundance of neon started assaulting his eyes. He just knows that he needs to go somewhere else, because the last thing he needs is these people seeing a full-on meltdown.

 

“Hey! Guys!” Aang shouts to them, coming out into the open. Toph shoots him squarely in the chest.

“Got ya!” she says.

“Yeah,” Aang admits. “Um. Where’s Zuko?”

 _Fuck_ , Sokka thinks. _This is my fault._

“I can call him. Hang on.” Sokka says, stepping outside the maze again. Teo waves half-heartedly to him from the counter before looking back to the issue of _Popular Mechanics_ he’s reading.

Sokka scrolls to the very bottom of his contacts and presses the only one he has under the letter Z.

There are six rings before Zuko picks up. He’s wandering around the place, checking out the posters on the walls and whatnot, trying to distract himself from the panicked concern rising in his chest.

“Hello?” Sokka says tentatively, because there’s no initial response, just empty background sound.

“Hi,” Comes Zuko’s voice through the phone, tentative and soft.

“Hey buddy- quick question- where _are_ you?”

“I’m hiding. It was too loud and bright and I didn’tthinkitwouldbothermeatfirstbutthenIwasworriedIwasgonnahaveameltdownandthenyouguyswouldseeitandthenyoureallywouldn’tlikemebecauseI’msoautisticandIshouldn’tactthatwaybutIdoand I _can’t help it!_ ”

“Hey,” Sokka says. “It’s okay. Deep breaths. You don’t even need to worry about me using whatever you said against you, because I did not understand it at all.”

“Okay.” Zuko says.

“Zuko?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you hiding in the bathroom with the lights off?”

“…Yeah.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the shortness of this chapter!! I promise the next update will be longer (and will also include someone fINALLY MAKING A MOVE GOD DAMN IT YOU'RE BOTH SO OBLIVIOUS).
> 
> enjoy!!

“Just how long are you going to stay in there?” Sokka asks.

“Forever.” Zuko replies.

“How about another two minutes?” Sokka wheedles.

“Five.” Zuko replies firmly.

“Ugh. Fine.” Sokka replies, but he’s only pretending to be annoyed. “We’ll meet you out front, ‘kay?”

“Yeah,” Zuko replies, voice uncharacteristically childlike. “Go away.”

So Sokka does.

Aang and Toph are loitering by the exit, chatting with Teo about wheelchair mods.

“Hey Sokka!” Aang greets him.

“What the fuck happened to Zuko?” Toph demands.

“He um, decided he needed a break, I guess,” Sokka replies. “I told him we’d wait out front.”

“ _Spirits,_ ” Toph says, leaning against the wall, nose wrinkling slightly as the smell of Sokka’s tobacco smoke makes its way toward her. “You smoke? Gross.”

“Yeah,” Sokka agrees. “Does it really bother you? Because I can put it out.”

“It’s your cancer.” Toph says with a shrug.

“Who won after I left?” Sokka asks.

“I did!” Aang says.

“Please, twinkle toes. I let you win.” Toph says disdainfully.

“Uh _huh,._ ” Aang replies sarcastically.

“How exactly do you play laser tag?” Sokka asks. “Because you’re very good. And I don’t understand how you do it because, you know-”

“I’m fuckin’ blind.” Toph finishes with a laugh. “Teo rigged one of the guns so that it vibrates when it senses another person’s armor.”

“Ohhh,” Sokka says.

Toph punches his arm lightly.

“And a lot of practice! I still can’t see _anything,_ I’m a laser tag prodigy!” she taps her temple “If only you guys could see what goes on in here.”

“True story,” Aang says. “I wouldn’t suggest sparring with her either.”

“Why?” Sokka asks.

“She makes up for the fact that she can’t see by strangling you the second she gets a hold on you. Not a good time.” Aang says.

Toph chortles.

Sokka’s mounting fear of Toph is interrupted by Zuko coming out the door and almost colliding with Aang.

“Ah!” He exclaims. “I didn’t expect you to still be here.”

“Why not?” Aang asks, perplexed.

“He abandoned laser tag!” Toph exclaims. “Is nothing sacred? Fucking dick.” The last part is directed at Zuko, who blinks and looks at her analytically for a few seconds.

“Sorry, I- I just…” he starts.

Sokka notices he’s tugging at his hair, something Sokka’s seen him do when he studies for Zhao’s class, or when Sokka plays music too loud.

 

“Hey, don’t be a jerk,” Sokka says. “It was pretty loud in there.”

“ _That’s_ why you left?” Toph asks Zuko disdainfully.

“Yes!” Zuko replies. He’s getting angry, and Sokka remembers vaguely Zuko telling him one evening as they studied- _it’s hard for me to find my own words to use sometimes. I like to borrow them from other people- it’s difficult for me to put my thoughts into words people will understand, especially when I’m upset.-_ this piece of information was somehow also related to rote memorization and Zuko’s ability to quote academic works in his homework without checking them (much to Sokka’s jealousy).

“Toph,” Sokka says “Cut him a break. Just because he gets overwhelmed by things that don’t bother you doesn’t mean you have to be a dick about it.”

“Well I just don’t see why he would leave without even telling us! This might come as a surprise, but I don’t know if you leave unless you _tell me._ ” She replies heatedly.

“Because it was horrible and disgusting,” Zuko replies solemnly.

Soft laughter from the group, and Zuko looks encouraged and continues

“I didn’t want to have a meltdown,” he says.

“What?” Aang asks. “How do you mean?”

“There’s no- it was so loud and bright in there and I can’t- I didn’t want you to- fuck!” Zuko takes a deep breath. “I’m autistic. H-haven’t you figured that out, yet?”

 

Toph slaps her forehead.

“Wow. Okay. Um, Zuko. I’m really, _really_ sorry about that. I get competitive sometimes, ya know? I was getting into it, and then you left and I was disappointed because we didn’t have teams anymore, but jeez. Sorry for biting your head off like that...that’s um, not your fault.”

“That’s right.” Zuko says.

And then, “Did you really not know?”

“No.” she says.

Zuko smiles a little bit.

“That means I’m getting better at mimicking allistic behavior. Although, I guess the fact that you can’t see me helps.”

“How do you mean?” Toph asks.

“You can’t see that his hands are literally never still.” Sokka laughs.

“Can I buy you coffee or something to make up for it?” Toph asks Zuko.

“I want coffee!” Aang chimes in.

“I know _you_ want coffee, Aang,” Toph says. “Your feelings don’t matter right now.”

“I don’t care for coffee.” Zuko says.

“Well, what’s your beverage of choice?” Toph asks.

“Jasmine tea would be nice.” Zuko says.

 

“Fine, Aang, I’ll buy you coffee. Jesus,” Toph says.

“Yeah!” Aang exclaims, grinning. “Can I get whip cream on it? Please?”

“You…want whip cream. On black coffee.” Toph says.

“Yeah!’ Aang replies. “It’s great! Trust me,”

Toph shrugs.

“Whatever makes you happy, man.”

 

Zuko is lagging behind the group. He’s pulling the zipper of his jacket as he walks, and he almost collides with Sokka when he slows down to light a cigarette.

“Sorry,” they both say.

“Didn’t you just smoke?” Zuko asks.

“Uh…..” Sokka replies. _Great,_ he thinks _genius. ‘Uh’ is the reply of the year._

“Sorry,” Zuko says again. “Just. Um. Maybe you should give your lungs a break.”

“I think they’d probably like that,” Sokka says, taking a drag.

“Thank you for earlier,” Zuko says, looking at Sokka and smiling. “I appreciate it,”

“Oh,” Sokka says, and he can feel his face getting hot because _spirits_ he wants Zuko to look at him like that forever. “I was just, you know, being a decent person,”

“Hm,” Zuko says. “Really?”

“Yeah, dude.”

Zuko nods, like he’s just learned something deeply important.

 

“Hey! Lovebirds!” Toph shouts. “Hurry it up!”

They both sheepishly quicken their pace, and Sokka can’t help but notice that Zuko’s blushing.

­­­­­­­­­_______

 

Sokka is trying to wrap his head around the essay he has to write when he feels Zuko’s long fingers gently stroking the shaved side of his head.

“Hi,” he says.

“Sorry!” Zuko pulls his hand away quickly, like he’s been burned. “It looks so fuzzy,”

“Whatever gets you going,” Sokka says, and then immediately regrets his choice in words. “I mean- um, I don’t mind. Go for it.”

“It’s a _very_ good stim,” Zuko informs him, stroking his fingers upward again, and Sokka realizes that this is probably the first time that Zuko’s touched him.

“Don’t you have AA tonight?” Zuko asks, and Sokka groans.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to,” Sokka replies. “I gotta write this essay,”

“Right,” Zuko says. “I forgot how much you love homework.”

“W-was that a joke?” Sokka asks.

“Yes?” Zuko replies.

Sokka chuckles.

“Nice,” he closes his textbook. “You know, you never did tell me how you got that scar. And I hate to brag, but I’ve been doing this whole ‘not getting shitfaced’ thing for an entire long-ass week, so would you wanna, um, fill me in on that?”

 

“I don’t like talking about it,” Zuko says. “But I told you that I would tell you.”

“Hey- you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Sokka says, and Zuko shrugs.

“I was thirteen. It was a house fire. It killed my mother,” Zuko says bitterly.

“I’m so sorry,” Sokka says. “My mom isn’t around anymore, either. Ovarian cancer.”

“Oh,” Zuko says. “I’m sorry for your loss,”

“Yeah,” Sokka sighs.

 

“Would you mind if I gave you a hug?” Zuko asks.

“O-of course not!” Sokka replies, and Zuko’s arms wrapping around him is the best feeling in the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha sorry I took fucking forever to update :")  
> also I realize that this is like 98% dialogue but so is the rest of the fic at this point so u know what,,,,,,  
> anyway! look forward to 2-6 more chapters of this shit depending on how long they are and also whether I actually end up finishing this fucking thing over the winter break. no content warning for this chapter! enjoy---
> 
>  
> 
> and don't forget to comment ;)

“Zuko, I was wondering, would you want to come to dinner with me?” Sokka asks.  
They’re sitting in the dorm circle, huddled maybe a little bit closer than strict friendship would suggest. It’s getting chilly outside, but still.  
Zuko watching the sun go down and Sokka nursing his post-dinner cigarette.  
“We already ate.” Zuko says replies.  
“No, I meant another time.” Sokka says quickly. “Like a date.”   
“You want to go on a date?” Zuko asks.  
Sokka nods emphatically.  
“With me?” Zuko asks.  
“If you want to,” Sokka says, face slightly flushed.  
“Does that mean that you would be my boyfriend?” Zuko asks.  
Sokka has to restrain himself from slapping his forehead, but he manages.  
“If all goes well, yeah,” he says.  
“Oh,” Zuko says. “Where would we go?”  
“Wherever you want,” Sokka says. “That said, my price range is um, limited.”   
Limited is an exaggeration. Sokka has a minimum wage job and thousands of dollars in student loans that he tries very hard not to think about.  
“I’ll pay for it,” Zuko says with a shrug.   
Sokka blushes.  
“Y-you don’t have to- I asked you, so-” he stammers.  
“You work a lot harder for your money than I do,” Zuko says nonchalantly. “It would be a bit of a waste.”   
“That’s embarrassing,” Sokka whines, resting his head on Zuko’s shoulder. “Is this okay?”  
“Yes,” Zuko says. “And I don’t see how that’s embarrassing.”  
“Well, you’re not the one who’s dirt broke.” Sokka says, rolling his eyes and crushing out the burning remains of his cigarette on the pavement.  
“How does this Saturday sound?” he asks after a pause.  
“Good.” Zuko says, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “It sounds nice.”  
__

Between work and school, Zuko doesn’t see much of Sokka for the following week.   
While going on a date with Sokka, holding his hand, breathing in his smell, kissing him…they’re all things Zuko has idly daydreamed about more than he would ever care to admit.   
But actually going on a date with Sokka?  
He thinks the anxiety might kill him before Saturday evening can ever come.   
“Hey,” Toph snaps her fingers. “Earth to Zuko.”  
“What?” Zuko asks.  
“It’s your turn. Some of us are trying to take over the world here.” She says.   
They’re sitting in Aang and Toph’s dorm room, playing Risk. Katara is perched on Aang’s lap.  
“What’s on your mind?” Katara asks.  
Zuko rolls the dice and successfully drives Aang’s military back, seizing some territory. With that out of the way, he says to Katara “Sokka asked me out on a date.”.  
“What?” Katara splutters.   
Toph cackles softly, and a jolt of fear runs down Zuko’s spine.   
“Wait- you- you knew he liked boys, right?” he asks.  
“Yeah,” Katara replies, and Zuko lets out a breath in relief. “I’m just…wow. What did you say?”  
“We’re going out in three days, six hours, and forty-five minutes.” Zuko tells her. “I’m nervous about it. I’m sure I’ll fuck it up.”  
“Just be yourself and be honest about your feelings, and I’m sure it’ll go fine,” Aang says.  
“Yeah,” Toph says. “Sokka can’t be that hard to impress.”   
“Be myself? That’s the worst advice ever.” Zuko says.  
“He asked you out,” Katara says. “That means he’s probably more into it than you are.”  
“I would have, but I couldn’t tell if he was interested.” Zuko says.  
“So then what are you worried about?” Toph asks, rolling her turn and taking a sizable swath of land from Zuko, causing him to scowl.  
“So many things, Toph. So. Many. Things.” Zuko runs a hand through his hair.  
“Hopefully shit doesn’t go too badly, it’d be kind of awkward to share a room after that.” Toph says.  
“Spirits, why would you say that?” Zuko squawks.  
Toph punches his arm lightly.  
“Kidding,” she says. “Don’t worry about it, you’ll do great. You’re super hot.”  
“Thanks- wait.” Zuko blinks. “Fuck you.”   
_

After text number four Sokka realizes that he is definitely not getting a reply.  
Him and Zuko were supposed to meet in the dorm fifteen minutes ago, and he’s starting to feel antsy. Fuck, he thinks, dragging himself up. This would be so much simpler if we didn’t have to live together.  
Then he could just cry and maybe drink for awhile, and with some time he could forget that meeting Zuko ever happened.   
Zuko is punching the shit out of a heavy bag when Sokka pokes his head into the doorway of the weight room. He’s never bothered to even go to the campus gymnasium before, (physical exercise was better before he started smoking) and doesn’t think he will again. He has to admit though, watching Zuko’s lithe, tense movements is a pretty nice view.  
“Hi,” he says.  
“Hi.” Zuko doesn’t even glance in his direction.  
“You didn’t answer my texts.” Sokka says, and Zuko feels guilty.  
“I put my phone on silent. So I wouldn’t hear it vibrate.” He admits.  
“Uh…do you want to rain check for tonight?” Sokka asks, looking at the floor.  
“It’s not going to rain.” Zuko tells him.  
“Do you still want to go out, I mean.” Sokka says, praying for an earthquake to destroy the building and kill both of them because if he has to put up with this level of awful for one more fucking second-  
“Yeah.” Zuko says, stopping and gulping a prodigious amount of water.  
“Then why in the fuck were you not in our dorm room fifteen minutes ago?” Sokka asks him indignantly. “I thought you were standing me up.”   
“I was going to.” Zuko says. “Except then I decided to come here and hit things because I was nervous. Which sort of seems stupid because talking to you now is fine, but in the moment it was more of a concern.”   
He sits down on the floor and begins pulling his socks onto his bare feet.   
“We can go now,” he says.  
“We can go in fifteen minutes after you take a shower,” Sokka tells him.  
Zuko nods in agreement.

“So, what are we supposed to talk about on a first date?” Zuko asks him.   
They’re sitting across from each other in a small, dimly lit restaurant. The ambiance is rather nice though, and Sokka is just thinking about how he can’t afford to eat here and how he knows Zuko said that he would pay for it but he’s still feeling sort of guilty about it anyway when Zuko breaks the silence.  
“Well, what do you usually tell people?” Sokka asks.  
Zuko shrugs.   
“Mai and I didn’t really go on dates. We just sort of hung out.”  
“You dated a girl?” Sokka asks, shoving noodles in his mouth.  
Zuko nods.  
“I thought you were gay.” Sokka says.  
“Yeah, but I didn’t always- I mean,” Zuko says. “She was nice, I guess. We’re still good friends. Mostly it was sort of a sense of obligation, I guess. I can’t really imagine Mai being….like that with anyone.”  
“That makes sense, I guess.” Sokka nods.   
“It was also to make my dad think I’m heterosexual.” Zuko says. “It worked, mostly.”  
“Are you out to him now?” Sokka asks. “Unless that’s too personal. It’s only the first date, after all.”  
“Yeah,” Zuko says. “I didn’t on purpose, but….yeah. Actually, it was my sister, so that was fun.”  
“That’s rough.” Sokka says. “I guess I never really had that problem. My dad is also bisexual, I guess, or whatever. I mean, he loved out mom, but she’s gone now, so….”   
“Oh,” Zuko says.  
“Yeah, he’s getting married again.”   
“Do you like…them?” Zuko asks tentatively.  
“Bato is already like a father to me,” Sokka says. “It’s definitely gonna be a little weird, but I’m happy for them.” 

“Thanks for dinner.” Sokka says.  
“You can stop saying that.” Zuko tells him. They’re holding hands as they walk home. It’s starting to mist lightly, and Sokka throws the cigarette he was smoking into the gutter.  
“Well, I appreciate it.” Sokka says.  
“Well, I would appreciate it if you would stop telling me about it.” Zuko says, and Sokka laughs.  
“I had fun,” he says.  
“Me too,”   
They’ve reached the university, or rather the long winding path through some field that eventually leads to the dorms. Zuko hesitates under the streetlight.  
“Sokka, may I kiss you?” He asks.  
“Certainly,” says Sokka with a grin, and leans down.   
The kiss is long and sweet, and Zuko enjoys the feeling of being the one who has to stand on his tiptoes for a change. Sokka’s fingers gently run through his hair, and he smiles and laughs a little bit after they pull away.  
“What?” Zuko asks.  
“Nothing.” Says Sokka, continuing to walk. “You’re a good kisser.”


End file.
